Wedding Day
by Phoenix Rise from the Ashes
Summary: "The Happiest Day of a Woman's life always is her wedding. Despite myself avoiding the general stereotype for most woman things, I was no exception to this rule." FAZ EGGY NAZZY summary may change
1. Chapter 1

**Max P.O.V:**

The Happiest Day of a Woman's life always is her wedding. Despite myself avoiding the general stereotype for most woman things, I was no exception to this rule. After being with Dylan for eight years, after all the things we suffered through together, I was truly happy of the prospect of being with Dylan forever.

Now, now, I'm Maximum Ride, I'm not sappy and cliché, but I was sure that Dylan was the one, and by spending my life with him, I was going to achieve complete joy.

I was also going to achieve freedom from my father.

The room I was in was plain and simple, with barely any furnishings as it was in the church back room, but I paid barely any attention to the room, I was too busy occupied with the wedding. So here I was, standing in front a full length mirror, twirling and smiling in my wedding dress. I by no means am pretty or beautiful, but in that dress, wearing this ring, I felt it. I always felt beautiful with Dylan. Dylan was truly the beautiful one, both in his soul and appearance. He was a sex god, with his golden hair, and smooth tanned skin. His body was perfectly toned and his eyes were a deep blue. I hated him at first. My best friend and I, detested him with every fibre of our beings. He was the stereotypical Californian boy and we thought he was an idiot with an ego. Then everything changed when my best friend was absent for one day and Dylan sat beside me, it was the day we fell in love. It was also the day when my friendship with Fang started to crumble. I refused to think of Nick Walker, or as commonly known as Fang. Fang with the wild black hair and obsidian eyes. He was basically the polar opposite of Dylan, though girls swooned over them both. Even their personalities were contrasting. Fang was silent, but who was the embodiement of sass and sarcasm when he wanted to be. Dylan on the other was loud and curious, always kind and considerate.

I wouldn't think of Fang, he was the past and Dylan was the future.

I couldn't wait for the future of Dylan and I. Despite being a raggedy tomboy I dreamed of finding a prince. I couldn't wait for us to have a kingdom, somewhere secluded near a lake, river or a sea, where our children could climb trees, where we could all build a treehouse together.

_Our children_

I blushed a deep crimson, ruining the attempt of beauty on my face. My face was painted with a thin and light layer of this watery stuff, which gave me a healthy glow. My lips were coated with a nice colour which, I quote "brought out the inner princess", my un-barfed chocolate eyes rimmed with some light eyeliner, and my eyelashes looking majestic. My natural behead hair was no more and replaced by princess curls which were worthy of Disney. My Maid of Honour, Lissa did them for me, and as a model, she knew what she was doing. A golden tiara sat proudly on my head, holding a veil over my face.

My dress put my hair and make-up to shame.

It was simply the most elegant and beautiful dress you would ever encounter. No words did it enough justice. It was simple yet stunning. The Dress had no sleeves and the top was wonderfully curved, not revealing anything. The top was detailed with ornate golden designs, underneath was a snow white fabric. As you went on down, the line became less clustered and spread gently, the bottom half of the dress ready to float freely. The skirt was a full white princess one, and was very wide yet perfect. Any shoes I would have worn would have been engulfed by the gentle fabric.

Hence, I wore my comfiest converse and fluffy socks. What? I'm Maximum Ride, of course I'm wearing normal shoes. In my hands I clutched a bouquet of pure white roses. They weren't my choice, they were Lissa's but I just went along with the thorned flower. It's worth to get pricked by the sharp thorns as long as I got to the gentle petals.

That pretty much summed up my relationship with Lissa and the rest of mine and Dylan's friends. They were the popular crowd and as soon as the "misfit" entered, I was immediately rejected by the group, but after seven years of being Dylan's girlfriend, it was obvious that we were going to be friends. Now here we were, me, Dylan, Lissa, Omega and Tess, all living luxurious lives in Manhattan, New York. Where nobody knew anyone, where the parties were glamorous and mysterious, where I had the privilege of living with Dylan in our apartment on the top floor. I was pampered out of my comfort zone. Gone were fluffy socks and warm blankets because of the shortage of heating, replaced by spa's and cool floors. Gone was take-away greasy pizza with an unhealthy amount of sweets, instead I was wined and dined with the finest foods of the world, recommended by every dietician.

Gone was my friendship with Fang, replaced by the love and I Dylan shared.

I shook my head out of these thoughts, I was being ridiculous.

I wouldn't let the past ruin my future.

I twirled in front of the mirror some more, before moving my leg up and down, I felt just excitement, I wonder where Lissa and Tess were,they were my bridesmaids, and though they were a bit harsh at times, I was glad to have them around. Seriously where were they? Wouldn't they at least come up to me and say "Good Luck", or something that best friends should do. I sighed to myself, Fang and I's friendship really raised my standards I guess.

Then a knock interrupted my thoughts, I froze to myself. It wasn't Lissa and Tess, they always barged in. It must be Jeb. I gritted my teeth even though I knew I was shaking, "I'm going to be free" I muttered to myself as I strode over to the door and yanked it open, expecting to see the face that was my father.

I visibly relaxed at the person, it was my mother. A word about her, before you meet her, she is the best woman to roam this earth. (I mean she made me). She is Hispanic, with dark chocolate hair with skin two shades darker then mine, she was beautiful and was the best cook. Two traits I did not inherit as I am not beautiful and am not able to cook. She is kind and always sees everyone's side of a story and always understands people, she is so patient with fellow humans. I am not. I got my reckless and aggressive attitude from my father.

Mom engulfed me in a hug without a second's hesitation, but what surprised me is that she rubbed my hair soothingly and muttered to me "It's okay baby, It's okay." I broke out of her grip in confusion "What are you talking about Mom?" My voice rising slightly to a panic, what happened, this day was supposed to be perfect. Now it was her turn to look at me with a quizzical expression

"You mean, you don't know what happened?" She asked quietly, her eyebrows framing her face, making her look concerned.

I shook my head in one rapid motion. "Didn't your father tell you…?" She trailed off, she knew he didn't and I knew he didn't.

Now I was concerned, what had happened, was Ella my half-sister all right, was Ari alright? I was beginning to hyperventilate, I wanted Dylan to hold me and comfort me, I wanted my hero to swoop in and save me.

I stopped dead in my tracks, since when does Maximum Ride need a hero. I don't do damsel in distress. I looked at my mom and asked "What happened?"

When she looked into my eyes, I saw pity in them, not sadness or grief, if someone had died, and she came here to comfort me. She pressed a scrap of paper into my hand. I curiously looked at the paper and recognized Dylan's perfect handwriting, in slightly rushed cursive. Yet the rush of the handwriting didn't bother me, the words did.

_I can't do this. I can't be tied down like this. I'm not even sure if I love Max any more, she's changed….._

_I can't marry someone like her, she's not the one for me._

_I'm leaving, please don't try to find me Max, it isin't worth it._

_-Dylan._

I read the note only once. I folded the paper into a neat little square. My mom observed me, eyes worried. I slipped the note into my bra, and stood up looking at my mother.

I stood there for ten minutes, controlling myself until the tears started to fall, they cascaded my face, ruining the make-up forever.

My mom tried to reach out for me but I was gone, sprinting out of the church room and through the main door.

I was suddenly very glad for my converse.

I sprinted, my natural speed taking over me, my body pumped by emotion.

As I ran, I noticed faces. Jeb had a smugness and a smirk, Lissa and Tess were giggling and pointing to me, the crowd of important people that Dylan brought were looking at me with disdain, as If I deserved this.

They splintered my eyes with tears.

I was so freaking pathetic.

So I ran out of the church area without a thought in my head, my dress floating around me.

Suddenly, I realize that I'm on a road and a car put on it's brakes so hard that the friction was making flames, yet the car didn't hit me.

I wish that it did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the reviews of the story! Now as a cheat sheet for myself, here are all the ages:**

**Max, Fang, Iggy, Dylan, Omega, Tess, Lissa: 26 **

**Gazzy, Nudge, Ella: 25**

**Angel and Ari: 20**

**Fang P.O.V:**

I honestly hate New York. For an outsider it looks infinite, a land of opportunity where all your dreams will come true. The beautiful illusion of the city that never sleeps. For those actually living in New York, you want to get out of there as fast as humanely possible. Since only the Manhattan elite have a pampered and luxurious lifestyle, everyone else is left to pick up their scraps.

I have not always lived in New York, I lived in a secluded town, north of Arizona. It had a lot less people.

It also had a lot less traffic.

Now traffic was definitely the worst thing about New York. I groaned to myself, I was stuck in it right now. I leaned back in the car seat. My car wasn't very good, always breaking down, but it was a very good price, and money was something I needed desperately. I really was saving in every way. My black leather jacket was very worn, though the more you wear it becomes warmer. I had dark Walmart jeans with a studded belt. With my long black hair and obsidian eyes, I looked like a hard core goth. I really didn't care though, it's not like I was going to you know, meet any of the strangers that roamed the streets. Tough I knew that I did look menacing and my glare made me even more hostile. Any wannabe thug would back away when I practically glare at them.

All in all I'm pretty awesome. If Max was here she would hit my head "to beat out the ego". My eyes darkened at the thought of Max, I have not spoken or communicated with her for eight years. Yet she was still one of my best friends.

The other best friend (the I talked to) is James Griffith, or commonly known as Iggy, as he had the strange urge to ignite anything existence. I mean anything. That idiot could start a fire using a sugar packet, lipstick and chewing gum. I know, I had the misfortune of witnessing it. Same age as me, we attended the same university and since both of us had no idea what to do with our lives, we lived together. Yes, we are both as straight as poles, though Iggy the diva sometimes pretends we're dating just to see the reaction of strangers.

Yep, I really needed a normal friend.

I looked in the car in front, it was quite obvious from the steam everywhere that they were doing illegal activities, blazing it. I knew they wouldn't get arrested, since New York was too populated and nobody really cared. They were just two nameless druggies. Just like I was a nameless person.

Their car surged forward, breaking my deep philosophical thoughts, as I made sure that my sorry-excuse-of-a-car followed closely behind. After ten minutes of my life wasted, I finally could navigate quickly throughout the one-way isolated streets, to me and Iggy's apartment. I couldn't wait to crash in my bed and just sleep, after my boring and long hours working in a low-pay office job, sleep was my reward.

Then an angel stepped into view.

She looked as if there was a gentle cloud flowing from her, her hair was like a waterfall of bronze and gold, the roses she held were dampened by her beauty. When did I get so poetic and elaborate, usually it was "She's hot". But this girl wasn't, this girl was worthy of being compared to the Maximum Ride.

That's when my hormonal brain decided to say "Hey, you're going to run over her" and I was shocked into reality and pressed the brakes as hard as I possibly could. Since I was a swimmer and was a black belt in street fighting, the brakes worked and caused the car to stop just before the girl in the dress. I was surprised my car could do that, since it was the definition of utter junk. The girl wasn't hurt in any way.

After studying her for a second I decided to rethink my statement, the girl wasn't physically hurt, but by the tears streaked on her face, I guessed she wasn't by any means alright. That's when I looked at her more closely and with a jolt I recognized her.

She had a healthy mix of blonde and brown hair from all the times we've spent outdoors together. She had the slight scar on her arm from the time I held her on the beach. She had those eyes, the eyes who darkened with anger at bullies, sparkled at the smell of chocolate chip cookies and lighted up when we were acting like utter children. When those eyes met mine I knew exactly who she was.

She was the stubborn and unstoppable Maximum Ride.

After I realized it was her I suddenly knew the reason for the white dress. With a clench of my heart I realized she was marrying Dylan. The *insert curse word of choice here* did not in any way deserve Max, he tried to fit her into his shadow, while she was created to be infinite, he dwindled her towering light. Yet she was happy with him.

So we exited each other's lives for eight years, since we wanted happiness, and Dylan was not in my image of happiness, but he was in hers.

Yet one thing was missing from the image of bride Max, where was her smile?

"You idiot, help her" my brain screamed, "Thank you, Brain" I said back. Now I was talking to myself, wonderful.

That's when her eyes widened in recognition.

Now if you expect us to look at each other, run to each other and hug, and have an intense heart-to-heart reunion. Then you my friend are very, very wrong. We sort of stared at each other (Luckily there was nobody else in this street, which was odd because this was New York) until her hurt eyes dissolved and an annoying smirk greeted her features and she yelled out to me,

"You almost ran over me, you jack-ass, I'm going to sue you for everything you own!" Though she had a smile and a twinkle to her eye, letting me know that she was kidding.

"You shouldn't be running out on roads, have you missed the road safety class in kindergarten?" I yelled back,

"I have, though it's a pity you couldn't even pass kindergarten with your horrible driving." She yelled.

I blew a raspberry at her and she blew one right back. This was our friendship, horrible comebacks and us acting like two year olds, not caring what other people thought, Us having the same sense of humour, chuckling at the same idiotic puns. After eight years you would think our friendship would have died.

But it didn't, because at this moment I knew.

My best friend was back.


End file.
